if tomorrow never comes
by AuburnCollision
Summary: It's probably the whole dark and damaged thing he has going on. Emotional transference is pretty common in her line of duty. She figures she can deal. Naturally, she's wrong. —Madara, Ino.
1. Call Them Mind Games

**summary**: It's probably the whole dark and damaged thing he has going on. Emotional transference is pretty common in her line of duty. She figures she can deal. Naturally, she's wrong.  
><strong>pairings<strong>: Madara|Ino. Fave guy. Fave girl. Total crack.  
><strong>note<strong>: I attempt to write action sequences. I also attempt to write in the canon time frame.

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><p>if tomorrow never comes<br>1.

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><p>Ino had done remarkably well on the battlefield despite the fact that she had yet to pull her <em>shintenshin<em> _no jutsu_ from her back pocket. Shikamaru warned her to put that technique away unless he was around to catch her; and Ino wasn't really the kind of girl to stray away from orders, especially when it came from somebody who knew her so well. Regardless, she'd managed to get by without any real serious casualties to count compared to the rest of her squadron but she was being uncharacteristically modest about the shallow wounds littered over her body. Maybe if this battle came three years earlier, she'd prance around and wear them like trophies or badges of honor, the kind of stupid grandiose thing only a naïve twelve year old would do.

But even Ino understood this was _still_ a war. For all she knew, she could be dead by the next morning.

Still, she was grateful with what she had and could've actually stayed a couple days or more to help with the wounded on the field. But like most of her expectations, chance decided to turn her on a different course as she was called back unceremoniously early in order to infiltrate the brain of a new captive. With her father's occupation as the operation leader at the Intelligence Division in the base camp of Konoha, there seemed to be an extra strain placed on the members of the Yamanaka clan, especially with the new influx of hostages.

Ino strolled through the grounds, shooting glances through tents that nobody caught. Her stomach churned and she brushed a lock of her dull blond hair behind her ear as she caught sight of Ibiki near the center hold of the camp next to the tent that belonged to the interrogation unit. For what it was worth, Ino found it as somewhat of a relief to see such a familiar face, even under these awful circumstances.

He led her through the folds of the tents, "Physical torture proved ineffective. He's a tough one."

"What're we looking for?" she asked.

"A contingency plan. People like him always have a backup when their first priorities don't work out," Ibiki stated grimly, "we'll need you to break in."

Ino creased her brow in agitation as she made her away around the canopy that divided the entrance of the tent with the center room where she found a very incapacitated looking Uchiha Madara sitting in his lonesome. He was body bound to a wooden chair with chakra infused chain links enclosed around him from neck to toe. Just as she lifted her chin about to meet his gaze, she realized he was blindfolded.

From what she could surmise, blinding him was probably to prevent him from throwing any last ditch attempts at _genjutsu_. Not that it really mattered since those chakra chain links cut off any possible chance for him to activate the sharingan.

Still, they would have to take every single necessary precaution they could.

"Finally given up?" Madara snapped, sincerely entertained at the thought of having his mind probed by _kunoichi_, "Sending in a _woman_ to do this job?"

How he was able to determine her sex by the sound of her footsteps, she would probably never understand. Then again, she supposed it probably came from the smell of herbs on her fingers beneath all the sweat and grime from the battlefield. Working in a Flower Shop could do wonders and her knowledge in botany had helped tremendously with the strain of wounds in her squadron. Casually, Ino shifted all her weight to one foot, crossing her arms over her flak vest as she eyed him carefully up and down—down and up again.

She'd heard all sorts of things about him. Who hadn't? He was incredibly notorious, especially in the _shinobi_ world. And of course _she_ would know. He was almost embedded into Konoha history. Despite being written off as an all-around-typical-bad-guy with sick intentions, she had to give him credit where it was due.

He was a fighter. Not that anybody would ever admit this aloud. Madara was probably one of the strongest shinobi of all time next to Hashirama.

And here he was now, a half-dead zombie in the midst of a war that didn't seem it would be playing to his favors any time soon. A war that shouldn't have even _mattered_ to somebody like him. Because Madara already lived his time and made an imprint on his own era. But persistence and tenacity must've been his specialty because here he was, utterly taking _her_ era by storm.

She supposed it must've been an ego thing.

Ino took a self-assured step forward, hand hovering over the top of his head.

"His mind is probably booby-trapped with genjutsu blocks," Ibiki stated passively, "be careful."

"Gotcha."

"Good luck," Madara quipped with an inkling of a smirk while he reclined and relaxed into his chakra laced seat.

Ino spared her captive only a half glance before closing her eyes and taking the plunge.

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><p>Bodies littered for yards on end in the barren acreage of what seemed to be an almost unrecognizable and abandoned battlefield while Ino sauntered through sluggishly, sweat beading over her brow.<p>

From what she observed, the clothing these carcasses were wearing was archaic. The kind of stuff nobody in their right mind would wear today: long, dramatized robes with clinks of armor over the shoulders—_heavy_, inconvenient things. Ino knew this time period. She'd studied it in grade school. And she took in every extraneous detail she could before continuing along the barren wasteland.

A rift of sunlight filtered through a thin patch of opening in the sky, veiled in shades of gray. Ino lifted her chin, smoothing out the kinks in her neck as she arched her head back, rubbing vehemently against the soft pressure point with her thumb and forefinger. She came to a slow halt under the flood of light from the sky and looked over the cavern that loomed over endless miles and miles of fragmented earth and paraphernalia of kunai, katanas, tantō blades and shuriken stabbed into the ground.

There he was—in the distance. She could see him from where she stood. The first thing she caught sight of was Madara's looming figure at the base of the cavern, his signature gourd shaped fan resting over his shoulder blade as he stared up at her with a half-smirk on his lips, bodies littered around his feet in a cornucopia.

Ino felt her jaw go slack as she dug her fingernails into the palm of her hands while she watched the barely alive man lying on the ground next to him reach for his ankle.

It was almost too easy to say this was his era. And she was an invader stepping in on what seemed to be a war from the depths of his memories.

Madara lifted his hand up with his index finger outstretched as he curled it up once, tempting her to come after him.

He was stronger than her. With the territory alone, she was already at a severe disadvantage; and she knew people could build one hell of a defense mechanism against outsiders. But the trick with the mind was that it could be deceived in an instant if it came under the right circumstances. There was a reason why people had nightmares; and Ino could be anybody's worst nightmare if she probed the sweet spot of the deep, dark recesses in their dreams.

After years of experience in infiltration, she could manipulate almost anything to her tactical advantage if she played her cards right.

Slowly, she reached her hand to relieve an itch at the side of her face. She wound up with a layer of grime wedged under her nails in course black and she accidentally nicked herself in the cheek, feeling the sharp sting of sweat trickling into her shallow wound.

But another problem with the mind was _pain_. Truth is, it was all in her head. But the human mind controlled what the human body felt. And Ino could feel every single ache littered over her body from her physical reality, along with every single _nonexistent_ ache in this illusory war field. She could feel the beat of the sun wear over her fair skin, the gravel in ridges under her sandals—she could feel the pain of a meaningless scratch on the side of her face. _Pain_.

It just left a bad taste in her mouth.

Soundlessly, she stuck one foot against the vertical lining of the cavern wall. Even though she was dreadfully low on chakra, she still had her battles to choose. She could either circle around the entire cavern to walk down, which would probably take around two or three hours of menial labor; or she could save herself those hours and cut it down to five minutes of wall climbing. Considering the fact that she didn't know this place at all, and knowing full well she was blazing a trail in genjutsu laced territory, she placed her bets on the latter short-cut route.

The closer she came to Madara, the deeper she could delve into his mind. Figure out what else he was hiding.

The idea that the long path could single-handedly lure her into the endless buffer of Madara's illusory block terrified her; but Ino knew herself, and she knew the human body through and through. From this distance, she could at least keep her eyes on him without losing track and sight of what he was doing.

But that didn't mean she was going to face Madara in a taijutsu battle. No—that wasn't her plan. She still understood that this was just another one of his illusory blocks. That he could actually manipulate the environment any time if he wanted. Besides, Ino wasn't a taijutsu fighter and she would be a fool to challenge him in his own territory.

She just needed to keep this illusion _moving_. She just needed to physically get closer to him. The longer she took contemplating things, and the farther away she strayed from him, the faster and easier she would get trapped in this block. And that was something she refused to consider at all.

A minute went by as Ino made her way down the cavern wall, feeling the ache in her back as she strained to keep her composure straight. She was maybe several hundred feet above around, give or take. One miscalculated step would have her flying down the walls into her very imminent death. Even in a dream, dying was terrifying. But Ino cast this fear aside with logic along with the skip in her chest as she quickened her pace down the wall into a slow run.

Sprinkles of gravel stuck to her skin like fairy dust as a wall of wind swept up from below. Ino winced and blinked rapidly in succession as she lifted her arm in front of her face in order to block the blow.

There was a crack.

She paused and froze in mid-step as she cautiously veered her gaze over her shoulder, feeling a kink in her neck wind up.

Ino's bright blue eyes widened in horror as she noticed a small stream of gravel trickling down from high above.

Another thick crack pierced the air and she found herself turning back towards the downward fall of the cavern wall—and _running_ for her life.

There he was: Madara was only inches away from her face as he sped up and she caught a fantastic shadow of his profile as he slipped next to her, on his way up the wall. He spared her a quick glance with a smirk on his lips as the fan whipped across the side of her face. While he was running up towards destruction head first, Ino was falling into hers.

He would sacrifice himself in order to have her die in this dream. Ino mused this contemplatively while she lifted her hands to perform the right seals.

When Madara turned to spare her another glance, he discovered her body physically missing from midair. But this was no trick of the eye; and as he turned to face the upward falling onslaught of rocks from above, a very familiar blond-haired shinobi materialized above him in a pop while the rock closest to him disappeared simultaneously from sight. He could only manage a grimace as he dodged narrowly the foot that nearly made contact with the side of his face.

Speed was his specialty. And in less than a second, he had her by the ankle, pushing upwards as he loomed dangerously close to the side of her face.

"Amateur tricks won't work here," he breathed, hot breath against her ear, "you lose."

Ino should've known better than to go after him with a substitution jutsu. Uchiha Madara would be damned before he fell for such a mediocre academy trick. She knew and reflexively, her stomach lurched as she closed her eyes and accepted her inevitable fate while instinctively grabbing Madara roughly by the forearm.

Her chakra failed her as her foot slipped off the side of the wall. Her stomach did another single flip backwards and she let her muscles unwind and relax while she watched the shadow of the wall above her collapse into ruins.

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><p>Ino snapped her eyes open and sucked in a sharp breath.<p>

Slowly, she retracted her hand from the top of Madara's head and let it fall limply to her side. Her eyes stung with tears and she held her breath tight with monumental effort in order to even her breathing out and compose herself properly.

When she regained full consciousness, she discovered three bloody crescent shaped cuts imprinted in her left hand. Slowly, she clenched that same fist and let the blood flow as she relaxed, unwounded and wiped what she could off her side, leaving a very apparent red smear against the dull green of her flak vest. Slowly, she turned her gaze back to the man sitting in front of her with the pretentious smirk on his face.

Dying was never easy. And living in a dream was _always_ better than dying. But Madara had made an easy sacrifice—he let those cavern walls cave in on them. He hadn't been afraid; he accepted his fate while Ino tried to fight it.

He knew dying also meant waking up in real time. It wasn't Ino's usual method of climbing out of somebody's mind and she usually sought to it as a last resort. Like she said, dying was never easy, not even in dreams. But Madara _knew_. He knew it would hurt her.

"_Pathetic_," he remarked haughtily, obviously unimpressed.

Not quite. Pathetic wasn't exactly the right word.

But she could sort of see where he was coming from with the insult. Ino hadn't been able to pull through with her plan with the collapse of the cavern wall. She had intended to approach the man who'd been reaching for Madara's ankle but with the circumstances, she knew she was better off trying to avoid the pain of death while he sidestepped her into a corner.

Adjusting wasn't her strong suit and usually, it was Shikamaru who was good at adapting to change. Too bad he couldn't help her here.

She hadn't even made it past the first barrier in his head. It was only natural for him to relinquish any thoughts of her being a respectable kunoichi.

For a fleeting and transient second, she actually considered having a heart to heart with him but squashed all notions of that and decided in the end that he was just another war criminal with an exceptionally long rap sheet trailing and extending after him wherever he went. Madara was just like most of the Uchiha men she knew which shouldn't have come to much of a surprise. They seemed to have this stupid tendency of creating messes and expecting people to clean up after them without fail.

But Ino had always been somewhat of an _up-stander_, or whatever the hell that meant. Pulling people from the ashes—the kind of girl who chased away other people's bullies. The kind of girl who cleaned up after her teammates. The kind of girl who was good at this shit.

And as long as she held onto that mantra, nothing could faze her. Not even Uchiha Madara.

Then again, she seemed to forget the fact that Madara _was_ the bully in this case—in almost _every_ case. He always had been and he probably always would be.

But maybe she could actually turn this into one of her senseless mind games. She _was_ a girl after all, not to mention her clan specialized in brain infiltration. Presumably from what she'd read from numerous stories in her history book, Madara may have been prepared for something like that. So she had to quell her excitement. It may actually never work with a man like him.

Then again, with the mental blocks she'd seen in his mind, she had little choice and really couldn't think of another method better suited.

Ino pulled up a chair from the far corner of the room and plopped down right across from him, crossing one leg over the other as her foot hovered dangerously close to his knee. Ibiki made a motion forward but Ino gave him a reassuring grin over her shoulder to let him know everything would go according to plan. At least, her _new_ plans. She could do this, this time. She was good at this kind of stuff.

Rational had never been her _forte_. And ever since she was eight, she always wanted to make her own imprint on Konohagakure history. This could actually work to her advantage if she played her cards right. And she could definitely afford taking a risk this time; this _was_ Uchiha Madara, after all, and she would be a fool if she thought taking the safe path would help her reel in anything helpful. And that was her only mission, in essence: figure out his contingency plan.

She couldn't let her village down.

She shifted her gaze slowly and gave Ibiki a terse nod, "I'll call you back when I'm done."

It took him a moment to register this before he conceded understanding, stepping wordlessly through the folds of the tent as he departed from sight.

Ino veered her gaze back to the very pacified looking Madara sitting in front of her.

"So talk," she stated dismissively, "tell me about your interests. Your likes. Dislikes. Dreams. Ambitions."

"Imbecile," he retorted, mock gingerly, "don't pretend."

Unable to hide her surprise (she was silently thankful for the fact that had he a blindfold on, else he'd surely mock her lack of self-control when it came to burying the emotions on her pretty face), Ino snaked her arms around her chest, "Pretend what?"

"You ask me to talk about myself. You expect me to tell you the dangerous, lucrative secrets of my life from the olden days. You lie about something tragic about yourself in an attempt to relate when we both know you're a mere, spoiled, not to mention incredibly _mediocre_ kunoichi," and he paused but didn't make an attempt to take a deep breath, "you pretend to care for whatever it's worth. I concede defeat and let you know exactly what you should be looking for."

He smirked, "You're naïve to think something like _that_ would work."

She paused and leaned back into her chair, feeling her heart palpitate erratically as her face burned a brilliant shade of red. Madara had seen through her plans and that must've said something considering the fact he couldn't see anything at all. It helped that he was physically blind because Ino had a hard time hiding the incredulous look written all over her face and she was sure he would give an additional world of insults along with his already existing critiques. And she felt compelled to say something to him—_anything_, really; but suddenly, her mouth went dry and the silence became suffocating.

Leaving aside the fact that Madara was a total sexist pig, Ino had to give him credit where it was due. He was a smart man—a smart _shinobi_. He could read people with no sweat. And she was eons away from ever reaching his level. She knew she was taking a risk when she considered having a heart-to-heart with him; she knew playing mind games with him would be like taking a huge gamble, not to mention it may actually never work in this case. He seemed to read her like a book, which was painfully ironic.

"I'm older than you know," he snapped tartly, "but don't fool yourself into thinking I'm senile. Your expectations are far too high if you think a therapeutic talk will work."

But then again, she was _Yamanaka_ Ino. She wasn't an idiot. If there was anything she excelled at, it was reading people. There was a reason why she worked in espionage and interrogation. There was a reason why she was always the first pick when it came to undercover work, and_ not_ Sakura.

Ino was the best damn actress in Konohagakure.

"You got me," she conceded, swiveling her foot around casually, a bad habit she hadn't kicked up since she was eight—since her mother spent an hour lecturing her about the bad luck that came with shaking her leg, as if all that shaking could be translated into losing all the money she would earn in the future. But Ino was not that kind of girl and the very notion of luck made her stomach clench, "I underestimated you."

Because there was a fate—and it was the fate she created. She would never own up to where she ended up because of _luck_ or chance.

"So show me," she offered coolly, "if you're so afraid of talking."

Madara arched a brow, "Don't tempt me, little girl."

But Ino was unmoving—stolid from where she sat, "Oh? Is that a challenge now?"

"You wouldn't understand a challenge if it shot you in the face," he replied offhandedly, "as we've witnessed in your last failed attempt to infiltrate my mind."

"But that's a lie, isn't it," she explained to him with a wince of amusement, "that battlefield—that was from the First Shinobi War, am I right?"

"_Naturally_," he was still unimpressed by her feeble attempt to relay viable information.

"But there was a man lying by your foot—I mean, I almost missed it because there were thousands of bodies scattered over the course of the field around you. But there was one man who was reaching for your ankle," she admonished, putting a finger to her lower lip in a cutesy attempt at contemplation as she turned her gaze to the far corner of the tent, "who wore the same Uchiha uniform as you but in shades of blue."

Finally, she veered her gaze back to Madara as her foot halted its profuse swiveling, "He was your younger brother, wasn't he?"

That was the trick with mind blocks. No matter what kind of genjutsu barriers people had in their head, they always gave a little bit of themselves away accidentally. Sometimes, Ino could dig up more than just the obvious on the surface; sometimes, she discovered childhood fantasies, dreams, the stuff that people buried into their unconsciousness the older they got. And with Madara—she'd only gotten a slice of a clue. But it seemed that this little piece of information meant a world of a difference as it registered slowly to him.

"_Tch_," he clicked his tongue bitterly and composed himself quickly; this time, there was no signature smirk, "how did you figure out he was my brother?"

"The ring on your index finger," she motioned to his hand but quickly realized he was still blindfolded, "it's a _gedi_ ring, isn't it? You—the elder—wear the _ge_ half of the ring. And your younger brother would wear the _di_ ring."

He should've given her _some_ credit. Ino could be lethal when it came to observing people—for taking the peculiar, little idiosyncrasies out of context and bringing them up under a scope. From her time on Team 10, she learned to take a few tips of the trade from Shikamaru; she had to observe and understand the situation before doing anything drastic. _Learn_ her opponent—see him through, no matter what kind of bully he was. No matter what his rap sheet said. No matter how notorious he was.

Everybody had secrets. Everybody had things buried in the depths of their unconscious. The human mind worked in strange ways and Ino was an expert at digging them through. The fact that she'd let herself fall into the first barrier spoke volumes alone. She took her job seriously and it was always the seemingly insignificant details that had a tendency to matter the most in the long run.

"I'll admit I'm impressed," Madara finally conceded with a smirk. "So what'll you do now?"

"First off, _thanks_," Ino answered tersely, brimming with quiet pride, "and well, I actually thought about diving into your mind again. But I'm kind of short on chakra right now so I figure we could have a conversation or something. Learn a few things from one another. The whole shebang."

Mind games. The only thing she had to do was pretend to give a damn about him.

She was _good_ at this. _Knew_ this. Could see this through until the end. This was a gamble and she was willing to take it. Ino was a fabulous actress, and this kind of stuff should come easy to her. If Ino pretended to care long enough, this could really work to her advantage. She could have Madara at the palm of her hand.

"But I know you probably won't tell me anything," she continued along emphatically, picking at the dirt under her nails, "so I thought maybe I could tell you a little bit about myself."

"Not interested," Madara didn't miss a beat.

"—Yamanaka Ino," she ignored him, "I like a lot of things. Shopping. Long walks. I actually like running too, contrary to popular belief. I'm a morning person. I have a fast metabolism and I'm not just saying that in a pretentious kind of way. I run my family's flower shop when I have free time. Oh, and I'm kind of a stargazer and I can probably name you every single constellation in the sky if you want. Maybe we could go one of these nights if you behave properly."

A pause as she took in the full view of a very piqued Madara, "There's not a lot that I hate but I'm not a big fan of sashimi—or just anything raw in general. My dream is to get married by the time I'm twenty with a house by the Nanako River. I can't decide between two or three kids but I know I want girls. Boys are just _too_ dirty. But overall, I just want to live a fulfilling life as a kunoichi and retire into a happy family."

After a moment of silence, Madara relented a sigh.

Admitting defeat? Ino wouldn't push it that far. But she couldn't help but feel smug and satisfied as she brushed a lock of her fair hair behind her ear, working out the rough kinks in her neck as she reclined slowly into her seat.

"So tell me a little bit about yourself," she offered casually, "or at least _introduce_ yourself," and when he didn't reply immediately, Ino continued, "or your brother for that matter. Tell me his name. He seems to be pretty important to you, huh."

Suddenly, the air went frigid. Ino felt her spine tense up as she veered her gaze to an apathetic looking Madara with his lips stretched taut in a thin line. She immediately felt a shiver come over the back of her neck while a line of goose bumps stretched over the skin of her forearm.

"Get out."

She had to admit she was pretty spent. _Tired_. And she meant it earlier when she said she was running low on chakra. So the fact that he wanted her out of his tent probably meant she'd been pushing his buttons the right way. Yamanaka Ino was getting the job done.

Madara was touchy about his younger brother. Now she knew what ticked him off.

Because as much as Madara was strong, he was also awful at hiding his own emotions. It was ironic, Ino mused, how things could work out.

She pursed her lips, "Aw, that's not nice—"

"—get _out_," he seethed.

He was tense, shoulder cocked back with his fists clenched.

But at this point, Ino knew better than to taunt him.

This conversation probably reached its end hours ago so she stood up and soundlessly made her way towards the folds of the tent, sparing a tentative glance at him over her shoulder before she took her leave without another word.

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><p><em>TBC<em>


	2. Burn of Betrayal

**note**: if I still remember how to write a proper story, this shouldn't be more than six chapters! Thank you guys so much for all the feedback from the first chapter. You're all so lovely.

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><p>if tomorrow never comes<br>2.

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><p>People were dying.<p>

Ino pressed her chin firmly against the butt of her kunai, feeling the sting of cold metal against her parched skin. She shot a tentative glance around the vicinity while picking absentmindedly at a stubborn smudge of blood dried under her nail.

"_Think_, damn it," she snapped furiously at herself while she registered quickly the condition of the battlefield, blue eyes darting quickly from the wasteland's horizon to the high trees in the distance. She thumbed nervously at the weapon in her grasp. _You need to find out where the hell he is_.

Kidōmaru was a problematic adversary. Even with Ino's vast improvements with her _shintenshin_ technique, there was absolutely no way she could reach wherever the hell he was, especially since she didn't have a single inkling as to _where_ he was. With their techniques alone, Ino was already standing at a severe disadvantage. And the fact that neither Shikamaru nor Chouji were around meant she was edging further and further into a handicap corner. She was sitting in a position of complete and utter inconvenience and since the spider man was sniping away the men on her squadron like flies, she couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for their loss.

The fact that their leader Mifune was nowhere to be seen hardly provided any relief. Their squad leader had taken off towards the forest nearly two hours ago and left no one in charge in his absence. His skills as a warrior obviously didn't translate to his proficiency as a leader and with each passing minute he was gone, Ino grew more and more agitated.

An arrow pierced through the air and she only caught it by chance from her periphery before she ducked out of the way, the weapon grating roughly through the sleeve of her black shirt before it rammed through the shoulder blade of some unsuspecting shinobi standing behind her.

"Goddamn," she muttered bitterly under her breath while she proceeded to make a quick inspection of the wound on her arm before promptly turning around to check out the condition of the wounded shinobi who'd been hit by that very same arrow.

The hit wasn't critical and Ino allowed herself the luxury of a relieved sigh when she came to the realization that it was only a muscle tear. Slowly, she reached a hand out to sever the thread of silk that speared through his shoulder.

The strand went from taut to slack in her hand before another arrow whizzed over the shoulder pad of her flak vest and pierced straight through the man's forehead.

His blood splattered over her face in droplets.

It took only moments for his face to drain of all color while a thick, fat stream of red trickled from the mouth-sized wound embedded in his head. His arm fell limply to his side.

Had it not been for sheer dumb luck, that second arrow would've no doubt taken her life.

Ino paused and her hand hovered hesitantly over the shoulder wound of the dead shinobi sitting in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up from the ground, fighting away the tremor in her clenched fists.

She stared pensively at the trees in the distance before she darted from the lower end of the field to the high ledge above. It was common knowledge that whoever had the higher ground had the tactical advantage in battle; but being on higher ground also meant a far greater exposure to the enemy. The theory was somewhat of a stupid thing to consider with the circumstances at hand but it seemed some of the simplest things were also the easiest things to forget.

However, translating this idea onto the field was also a risk because, in the end, this was a _shinobi_ war.

She kept running and decided she'd take her chances. Trying to defeat Kidōmaru was no longer a viable objective. Ino knew this and instead, she decided to take her chances on a different kind of route.

She took another quick glance around, catching sight of the scattered bulk of kunai and tantō blades stabbed into the motionless bodies strewn on the ground. The morale of her surviving squadron was dishearteningly low and as much as she didn't want to admit it, Ino knew this battle was almost a lost cause. Their team leader Mifune was still nowhere to be seen and with the colossal loss of men, their resultant struggle was diluting fast into no avail. The fact that she was having her own losing battle with one of the resurrected didn't help and only reinforced the notion that she had to step up to the plate and take the reigns of operation.

Hesitantly, Ino took a pause on the ledge that overlooked the rest of the field, trying hard to digest what'd she'd seen in the past few hours.

She wasn't really sure what perplexed her to do it. Ino couldn't say she was really thinking at all. But she raised an arm and wiped her face with the back of her hand, the droplets of blood from earlier smearing across her grime caked face while she tried persistently to get the image of that dead man with the arrow in his head out of mind.

It took her a moment for her to form the correct hand seals before holding the ram symbol firmly, feeling the scabs scattered over her knuckles stretch taut as blood seeped through the thin brown patches of her healing skin. Ino started on her way again, feet hitting the dirt ground as she kept a steady hold on her consciousness.

_Everybody_, Ino projected from her mind, _we're retreating. Head back to the base camp as soon as you can_—

But this slip of consciousness lasted for no more than two seconds because in that moment, a flash of silver pierced the air and punctured right through Ino's shoulder.

Upon closer inspection, she realized it wasn't an arrow this time, but a tantō blade.

From the distance, she caught sight of Mifune standing at the forest edge, his arm raised, with a grimace tacked on his face.

* * *

><p>"You look like an idiot."<p>

Ino frowned while she instinctively lifted her hand to stroke at the makeshift cast wrapped around her arm. Although Mifune strategically missed her vital points, there was no doubt a very prominent pain still evident. She surmised it was his form of punishment for trying to take control of his squad, "They took off your blindfold?"

"Standard protocol," he stated, "an old Konoha mandate from the First Shinobi War. It's a requisite for hostages and prisoners to to receive mental stimulation. And blindfolding somebody is not permissible under the ninth clause."

She arched a brow and resisted the very strong urge to roll her eyes. Madara was probably that one pretentious student in class who felt compelled to answer every one of his sensei's questions, including rhetorics.

Ino would be lying if she said there wasn't something strangely comforting when he had a blindfold pinned over his eyes; and she was only vaguely aware that he could potentially trap her into a never-ending genjutsu if she screwed up even a little bit.

Then again, it shouldn't have really mattered at all since his chakra channels were cut off so the _sharingan_ hardly even posed a threat to her at this point. The fact that she had four _Anbu_ members in the tent overlooking their operation _should've_ also reassured her that everything would work out all right. But she knew better than anybody that she couldn't overestimate the power of their task force. The _Anbu_ were not known for strength; their power lied in stealth and Ino wasn't sure how much that would help her if things went wrong.

_Stop telling yourself things are going to go wrong. Nothing's going to go wrong, idiot_, she snapped angrily at herself.

"How do I know you're not just making this up?" she asked warily.

"You seem to forget I'm the one who founded your _idiot_ village," he replied starkly.

_That's ironic coming from the person who was caught by said village_, Ino thought bitterly, biting down hard on her lower lip to prevent the retort from spitting out.

"One of _two_," she corrected him placidly.

Madara looked like he was considering her correction carefully. Ino's logic was sound and although he would never admit it aloud, he probably did hold _some_ sort of respect for Hashirama. So being placed on the same level field with his cofounder wasn't so much of an offense. The only thing he was probably ashamed of was the village they established together as partners. Even Ino could understand this much.

"Why didn't you bring it up yesterday when you got here?" she asked uninterestedly, shifting all of her weight to one foot while she swept a lock of her long blond hair behind her ear. She wasn't really pressing him for an answer. This was just her passive and slightly makeshift attempt at small talk. "If you're so adamant about being treated humanely, they could've taken that blindfold off earlier."

"Does it really matter?" he asked with complete rhetoric as he met her gaze with half lidded eyes. "Don't you have a job to do?"

This was not the kind of menial task she wanted to play with him. But at this point, Ino was far too tired and detached to actually _care_ and she didn't mind appeasing to his demand if it meant she could get on with her day. She was pretty sure when it came down to it, Madara would probably win out over her with obstinacy so arguing with him was no longer a suitable option to consider. And since it was _apparently_ Konoha regulation, she decided to go along with it unquestioningly. She was already in enough trouble as it is and she couldn't afford to make any more petty errors.

Besides, she was _pissed_. Being put on probation after her little stunt out there on the battlefront wasn't exactly something she'd been proud about, especially since she'd been doing remarkably well prior to that blunder. Mifune had been absolutely furious when he caught her on the ledge and the only thing Ino could do was return back to the base camp with her tail between her legs after getting a huge lecture from her squadron leader in front of her entire team. Not only was her ego bruised, she was dirty with a layer of grime caked over her skin from head to toe, her right eye was bruised a whorish shade of green, she had a scab on her right knee that was unbearably itchy, and she had a mouth-sized lesion in her shoulder from where Mifune stabbed her earlier in the day with his tantō blade.

All in all, her day was not going well.

And truth be told, Ino was already somewhat aware of the fact that all prisoners were required to have some sort of psychological stimulation. That very basic mandate applied to all sorts of animals like _pigs_ in farms and hostages at the interrogation unit back home, so naturally the same should apply to people—_prisoners of war_.

Then again Ino couldn't deny her relative surprise. It was strange that these mandates weren't held suspended during wartime. She could actually attempt to contend it but at this point, she was far too jaded and removed to even bother. Also, it probably wouldn't do her any favors in the end when it came to the mission she was tasked with.

_The contingency plan_. After all the uneventful happenings today, she'd nearly forgotten about it.

"Many have heard it, but nobody has ever seen it, and it will not speak back until spoken to," Ino recited tiredly like this was rehearsal, "what is it?"

"An echo," Madara replied without missing a beat, "next."

Ino snaked her arms over the front of her flak vest, sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth while she veered her gaze around the room, decidedly irked at the fact that he already knew the answer to her first riddle. She licked her lips before proceeding, "A rich man named _Takana_ was murdered on a clear Sunday afternoon. At the time of the murder, there was the maid, the cook, the butler, the gardener and the wife in the same vicinity. The maid was cleaning, the cook was making breakfast—"

"—it was the cook," Madara interjected dispassionately before she could even finish the riddle, "people don't make breakfast in the afternoon."

She creased her brow, feeling agitated, "A man at a bar says he knows all the songs known to man—"

"—it's _happy birthday_," Madara interposed again indifferently.

"There were five men going to a church—"

Madara yawned, "—it's a body in a coffin. And four bearers."

A moment of silence passed between them. Ino sucked in another breath and exhaled slowly through her gritted teeth. She resisted the very prominent urge to sigh while she promptly stormed towards the corner of the tent where she pulled out a folding chair leaning against the standing pole. She took a seat right across from him and crossed one leg over the other, meeting his gaze while she snaked her arms over her chest, feeling the painful ache in her shoulder throb.

"Finished, are you?" Madara wore his apathy like a charm while he reclined slowly in his seat, "So? What now? Is that all you have?"

Ino wasn't much of a riddle person, "That should be enough mental stimulation for the day."

Madara grimaced. He knew she was short on chakra he seemed to come to the conclusion that this meant she wouldn't be taking a dive into his mind any time soon. So he clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to say something, "Don't you have something better to do then?"

"Like you should be talking," Ino replied defensively, "I'm not the one tied up in a chair."

"I'm a prisoner of war," Madara stated coolly, words dripping distaste and reluctance, "what's your excuse?"

Ino sulked visibly in her seat, recalling the events that took place earlier this morning. It was actually kind of pathetic because there wasn't anybody here she could vent to while maintaining a certain level of professionalism. Sakura was still on the battlefield, and Ino wasn't really sure when her teammates would return. Ibiki was completely out of question if she wanted to keep her job and respect when she returned back home to the village.

She would never admit this aloud but she'd never felt quite so lonely before.

All she had was this stupid, indifferent _Uchiha _sitting across from her. Uchiha _freaking_ Madara who probably didn't give two damns about her. But with no one else she could really talk to, was she really desperate enough to place her bets on the prisoner she was supposed to be interrogating?

In the end, Ino figured it wouldn't really matter because everything would congregate and assimilate into her plans later on. It would be a game of give and take. Maybe if she shared a little about herself, he'd learn to trust her. Easier said than done. Of course, she wasn't naïve enough to think this would work so easily. But she also wasn't cynical enough to write off that possibility so quickly. So she opened her mouth, not without a bit of hesitation, "I'm on probation. They suspended me for three days."

He arched a brow, the wrinkles creasing in the corners of his eyes, "Suspension? _Tch_. As if Konoha could afford to have their shinobi off duty."

He had a point there, Ino mused vaguely. This _was_ a war, in the end. And she was being treated like a child in time-out. Although his morals were questionable, there was no doubt Madara was an expert when it came to warfare. Konoha needed all hands on deck and sitting Ino out in a corner was a stupid thing to do, especially since there was already a huge strain on the Yamanaka clan.

"What compelled them to suspend you?" he asked, feigning only slight interest.

She propped an elbow on the back of her seat and gave the _Anbu_ guard with the rooster mask in the far corner of the room a look that read something like, "_I can't believe I'm having this conversation,"_ while he remained unresponsive. She figured this much.

She seemed to forget the fact that Madara could clearly see every gesture she made without the blindfold on. He glanced over at the _Anbu_ guard impassively before veering his attention back to the very piqued looking blonde sitting across from him.

"I took charge of my squadron because our leader was missing," Ino started with a sigh, rubbing the pressure point at the back of her neck, "and because we were being pummeled by their sniper, I decided to do something about it," and then the words she never wanted to say aloud, "I called for a retreat."

"Sniper?" Madara looked only vaguely interested as he straightened his spine, sitting upright from his recline.

"_Yeah_," Ino admitted, chewing on the corner of her mouth, "this, _uh_, spider guy. He's an archer. Shoots silk from his mouth and sucks the chakra dry from his victims."

Madara considered this for a moment, "Is the silk is attached to the arrow?"

"Well, _yeah—_of course," Ino said, "that's how he takes their chakra."

"And you say this silk comes from his mouth," Madara repeated for confirmation.

"That's what I said. What are you getting at?"

Realization dawned. Ino met his gaze slowly, her blue eyes widening. "_—_Wait."

Madara arched his head back and smoothed out the kinks in his neck. He'd reached the same conclusion as she did and he had to say he was mildly impressed at the fact that it took her only a few seconds after him to deduce the same thing, "Well? What're you going to do now?"

It took a few seconds for her to register his question.

"Well…I can't really do anything," she considered this cautiously. Ino suddenly felt the sting of regret from opening her big mouth in the first place. She seemed to have forgotten that Madara was a _still_ prisoner of war for a reason and that divulging her work on the battlefield could potentially put them all at risk if he were to ever escape. But then she came to the slow realization that she'd given almost nothing away about her technique, or the _people_ on her squad so she took in a slow breath of relief before continuing, "I'm still on probation. It's not like I can just walk out on the battlefield and do something about it again."

Now _this_ was what seemed to pique his interest more than her ridiculous riddles. Battle strategies. Ino sincerely wondered why he even bothered helping her but from the look of indifference plastered on his face, she assumed it was probably because he had nothing better to do. This war wasn't playing to his favors in the long run and quite frankly, he probably didn't give half a damn about the side he was fighting for. Madara didn't look like the kind of person who liked to take orders from somebody else, let alone, a forbidden jutsu that had him resurrected as a zombie.

A _zombie_. Ino had to inwardly scoff at that one. She wondered if the mandate he brought up earlier still applied to somebody like him.

"You're a coward."

Ino raised a brow, "Um, what?"

"You heard me the first time so don't pretend," Madara stated plainly, "but do enlighten me as to why are you so deathly afraid of your own village."

It took a moment for her to register this properly. Ino wasn't _afraid_ of Konoha. It was loyalty that trumped over fear. She owed everything to her village. The Will of Fire, or something trite like their slogan. This village brought her up.

Then again, this was also the village that was punishing her for something so evidently _wrong_.

Suddenly, she stood up from her seat and darted quickly through the folds of the tent. Madara arched a brow, genuinely surprised at her sudden action before sucking in a yawn and reclining in his seat, crossing one leg over the other.

Bored, once again.

The entrance of the tent rippled. Ino poked her head through the folds with a big smile on her face before she became vaguely self-aware, her smile fading into a grimace when she met his gaze. Uchiha Madara was still a war criminal and people like him didn't deserve smiles from pretty girls like her. Even if it did seem he was doing something right.

"Thanks," she told him tersely, and she didn't bother to wait for a response from him before she slipped out of sight.

Madara glanced around the tent and came to the slow realization that his only source of entertainment just ran straight out of his tent.

This was going to be an achingly long day.

* * *

><p>Ino breathed deep, feeling a dull ache in her shoulder while she took a quick scan of the status of the battlefield.<p>

Sweat beaded over her brow while she ran quickly to the aid of a fallen _shinobi_ near the ledge overlooking the field, "Are you alright?" Ino did a quick body scan and found a shallow wound embedded in the arch of his left collarbone and a deeper lesion in his right thigh that only narrowly missed his femoral artery.

He was a lucky one. Had he been hit an inch closer, he surely would've bled to death. At this point, there was still hope for him. Ino brushed a lock of his dark, brown hair behind his ear while he groaned in pain. "You'll be alright. I'm going to get you out of here—"

An arrow soared through the air and only narrowly missed the injured man's head by a margin of an inch. Ino jolted back to reality and dug her nails into the collar of his flak vest, dragging him into the shadows under the ledge with painful difficulty as she felt a sharp twinge of pain shoot through her shoulder. All the while, her hand hovered over the deep wound in his right leg, a soft green glow radiating from the palm of her hand.

The wound closed only slightly but the bleeding came to a slow halt. Ino spared him a reassuring smile, "You'll be alright. Try to stay out of sight for the next hour or so while I take care of things. Can you do that?"

"_Oi_," the injured man knitted his brows as his eyes widened in realization, "you're that girl Mifune-_taichou_ put on probation, aren't you? You're not supposed to—"

"—that wound should be fine," she interjected, fishing out a wad of bandages from the pouch attached to the side of her thigh and tossing it carelessly in his direction, "make a tourniquet and you should get back to the main camp as soon as possible."

Before he could say anything else, Ino stepped off the field and back onto the high ledge where she caught sight of a glimmer from the distance. She was piqued at the fact that she'd just saved a man's life and he hadn't even the decency to spare her a _thank you_, and instead was hell-bent on reprimanding her for something that shouldn't have even _mattered_ to somebody like him. But then again, Ino never became a medic for the _thank yous_.

Still, self-gratification only went so far and she could've really done for some reassurance at this point.

Suddenly, she was pierced straight through her lower abdomen from what she registered to be an arrow and Ino sincerely wondered how she could've gotten hit when she was yards away from where she estimated the weapon would strike.

Her body went flying back, blond hair whipping in front of her face before she finally made contact with the boulder in the distance behind her; she felt her back crack and her shoulder throbbed painfully while she collapsed to her knees, feeling a sharp and _raw_ ache in her lower stomach. She veered her gaze down and winced at the sight of her condition.

The arrow had penetrated completely through the boulder and now there was small, mouth-sized wound impaled on the left portion of her lower stomach with a thick thread of silk speared through.

At this point, she'd be more than lucky to get out of this war with a couple of scars.

She smirked and took a hold of the thread.

Chakra always required a medium to pass through. With her _shintenshin_, Ino's medium was usually air. This thread was more than enough. It was _better_ than enough. It was soaked with Kidōmaru's chakra signature and even though this was Madara's idea originally, Ino was already taking the plan for her own. But it seemed Madara already had a handle on what she was capable of because she deducted the same thing he did in the end.

His idea was to beat Kidōmaru with the sheer power of chakra alone but Ino would destroy him with stealth instead.

Her chakra seeped through quickly and her limp body hunched over as she lost complete consciousness.

* * *

><p>Kidōmaru stepped through the trees in the distance while all <em>shinobi<em> in the vicinity turned to stare.

Kiba was the first to take a step forward, gesturing towards the spider man, "That's the sniper," while next to him, Akamaru let out a low growl.

Kidōmaru lowered his arms to his side, revealing three pacified Zetsu clones passed out in a small cornucopia around his feet, "Calm down, Kiba. It's me. Ino," and with a triumphant smile, "I got him."

But the smirk disappeared from his lips just as quickly as it came when Ino caught sight of Mifune stepping through the small crowd of men.

From the look on his face, Ino knew she was screwed.

* * *

><p>"I really think we should talk about this."<p>

"Honestly, there's not much for us to talk about."

"_Come on_, Shikamaru!" Ino snapped, slamming her clenched fist roughly against the makeshift table in the center of their tent. "I had a plan. It worked. That battle was ours! I don't see what the big problem is!"

"You're on _probation_," he stared at her fist for a fleeting second before meeting her pensive glare. Had it been a couple years back, he surely would've given in to her temper tantrums, "Mifune isn't happy that you defied his orders. He's the leader of your squadron. I don't even understand why you felt remotely compelled to do what you did."

Shikamaru had a point. It was weirdly unlike her to defy orders. Despite all the bossiness and play arrogance, when it came down to it, Ino was actually very obedient. She wasn't reckless and she wasn't the kind of girl who went around blazing trails on missions. There was a reason why she worked in stealth. She was _good_ at following orders. She was _good_ at listening and knowing when to stop.

"We were losing people," she groaned for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling agitated that she had to repeat herself over and over again, "I seriously don't understand how you expect me to sit around and do nothing about it."

"Sacrifices are necessary, _Ino_," he replied with a soft sigh, lifting his hand to rub his temples to prevent what seemed to be an oncoming migraine. Even though he could empathize with her, there was no reason for her to take order of an entire squadron. She certainly wasn't qualified. Hell, she wasn't even first seat on Mifune's team. The fact that her punishment ultimately culminated to three days of probation with every action she'd taken so far was almost a miracle in itself. "You can't walk into a war thinking people won't die."

"_Shikamaru_," she tried with great difficulty to even out the agitation in her tone to at least sound reasonable, "please stop talking to me like I'm a child. If the ends justify the means, then I don't understand why it's such a big deal. We took that battle and we did it without taking anymore casualties!"

"Be rational. You might've taken out their sniper, but at what cost? Mifune said he had a plan. Think about it. There's a reason why we assign squad leaders," he stated with a soft sigh, "so grow up and stop being so naïve, Ino. Get rid of the ego. You of all people can't afford to have one."

She raised a brow, "Are you telling me I should've just let all those people die? And what the freaking _hell_ do you mean I, of all people, can't afford to have one?"

"All I'm saying is you need to stop trying so damn hard to be a hero," Shikamaru offered, shifting all his weight to one leg, "it won't do you any favors and to be honest, it'll probably only get you killed in the end."

She shot him a dirty glare and he immediately felt compelled to take back what he'd just said. He knew he was being a little too harsh but the silence between them stretched too long and it was already too late for him to take it back. Shikamaru figured she would forgive him in due time anyway.

Still, he knew that wasn't the right way to approach the situation at hand and even he was reasonable enough to admit he was wrong. He could empathize with her. She'd saved her squadron from numerous casualties. In a way, Ino _was _kind of a hero.

But Shikamaru knew better than anybody that in the end, war was a battle of the egos. Konoha just couldn't afford to offend any countries when they were playing a united front. They were still picking themselves up from the dust after Pein's destruction and they wouldn't be able to handle an invasion after the war. If he'd told her that, Ino wouldn't have taken it easily and knowing her, this would rile up her inner rebel. That was the last thing Shikamaru needed on his hands.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to apologize, Ino knitted her brows, turned around and stormed brusquely through the folds of his tent without another word.

* * *

><p>She chewed shamelessly at the egg wrap in her hand.<p>

Madara arched a brow.

"It's only egg whites," she snapped defensively at him, "I'm on a diet."

"You said you had a fast metabolism," he replied blandly, "_regardless_. Did you take their sniper out?"

Ino considered his question for a moment before finishing up the rest of her wrap, brushing away the crumbs left over on her hands. She chewed thoughtfully and crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and tell myself you meant it sincerely when you egged me on with the strategy. But don't think for even a second that this means we're going to talk about my work on the battlefield again. Got it?"

Madara shifted his gaze, clearly irritated, "That'll hardly be a problem now since you're being watched."

She grimaced. He was right. The _Anbu_ squad in this room was now ordered to keep a close eye on her instead of him. It was utterly embarrassing but Ino had to keep her chin held up for whatever it was worth. Even though she was on probation for the next three days, she _still_ had a mission to carry out. Now she could concentrate all her efforts on Madara.

Still. It bothered her. Why would somebody like _him_ want to help somebody like _her_? Ino convinced herself earlier it was probably an ego thing—Madara probably didn't give two damns about the side he was fighting for. But he still had a _cause_ to live for and she would be damned to be naïve enough to believe he'd all but given up on it.

What the hell was he planning?

"I did take him out," she said abruptly, while she fingered at the folds of the tent behind her back, "along with a few of his flunkies."

"Hm," he acknowledged her statement with placidity, "and yet, your punishment has been increased threefold. Ironic."

_She_ would know, "We're not going to talk about this."

He didn't seem like he was going to offer anything in return so Ino slipped through the folds of the tent and departed without another word, feeling the sting from a source she never really expected.

Her village.

* * *

><p><em>TBC<em>


End file.
